Thursday, April 27, 2006

No Title Necessary

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Digging in the Dirt

Warning: this is not a funny post. Really. Please quit reading if you do not want to cry for humanity. Also, this began during the day but was finished on Wednesday night. Stupid Mac crap doesn't let me change the time.

It happened almost a month ago & is technically 'old news', yet I still find it quite strange that I heard nothing of this until very recently, seeing as I grew up in the town right next to Clarendon Hills & still live in Chicago. This news is appalling (too lazy to spell-check tonight). When finding out from a close friend of my mother's (who's son was in the same Sunday school class as the little girl. how, exactly, do you explain this to a child who wonders where his friend is & why they're praying for her?), I immediately began tearing up. How? Why? What? No, you have to be mistaken.

My first experience with monsters was reading about Cathy in East of Eden at 14, doped up from pain meds after my wisdom teeth were extracted. At that point, I figured that since fiction, Steinbeck had taken the human psyche & augmented it's 'evil' side. And although I'd like to say that I've not heard of such a heinus crime until now, the same sentiments were felt when I learned of Matthew Sheppard. Especially distrubed since it happened so close to the campus I attended. For some reason, my subconsious buries these tragedies deep into the recesses of my brain. Oh, I remember them, but the emotions so strongly felt remain covered up. Probably because if I felt this way regularly, humanity would appear, through my eyes, unbearable.

Comfortable with death, not happy about it, but understand that it is necessary, this sort of occurence runs unfathomable through my brain. Did he not want her? What had gone on before this? NO ONE NOTICED ANYTHING????? The monster who did this was an active member on several community boards & described (through the opinion of a few of my parents' friends) as personable, funny & a nice guy. And even on top of someone's character, be it pleasant or abrasive, remains the question of how to grasp that such a terrible thing can occur (attempting to understand what motives that man had are out of the question). Hell, I can't even forcefully give the kittens pills without crying. (side note: the kittens are a little under the weather & that in & of itself is killing me, thus the pills...and the marks on my wrists that look like I've been cutting myself)

Schizophrenia or multiple personalities could be an answer but in this case, I feel near impossible, seeing as a large majority of the time, the aforementioned mental disorders show up in males by the time they've reached their late 20's and there are tell-tale signs of these cerebral malfunctions. Shit, even though I am quite a ways from my own child-bearing, I couldn't imagine that a relative wouldn't have taken her (as if a situation were to arise with my brother that he no longer wanted his child, I would raise it like my own) if for some unbeknownst-to-the-rest-of-the-world reason that the parents wouldn't want the child that they'd raised for the last 8 years, if that meant that she could have grown closer to her 9th birthday.

And to fast forward on the situation, this man's wife is saying that she's going to divorce him. Divorce him? I would have killed the motherfucker. 'Oh, yeah, and I'm filing for a divorce' is definitely not what would go through my head at that point (and keep in mind that I'm not a fan of revenge, really). More like, 'if he comes anywhere near me I'll do to him exactly what he did to my little girl but a million times worse'. Uh, whatthefuck? And the poor brother who will never know what greatness his sister could be to him. Her, in whatever she chose to take on...a doctor, a secretary, a thief, a naval officer, a mom and everything else that she'd be in between...a gymnast, a stoner, a track runner, a football player...whatever. There's an unbreakable bond between siblings that no matter where you end up they're still there & you still love them for themselves. No matter what.

The neighbor's comment also got me. Paraphrased: you don't hear of things like this going on around here. I hope, hope, hope that she didn't mean what I thought she meant. Yes, she lives in an affluent area. Yes, there is very little crime around there. But no no no, this should happen no where. Ever. I kind of feel like writing her & just saying 'hey honey, the bubble, well that's just a figment of your imagination. this can happen anywhere. just because you drive a fancy car & live in a fancy house doesn't mean that you're safe from this sort of atrocity.'

Anyhow, distraught with this & the kittens' vet visit, I stopped by the nearest (& still open) place to get some potting plants, knowing that some sort of calming activity necessary this evening. And thus, a new urban garden is born. Right now it's white & pink snapdragons. The first balcony box was planted & the dirt under my nails feels grounding (yes, Weldon, I used my hands without gloves...thank you for the advice).

So I guess all there is left to do tonight is put Neosporin (currently out of Bactroban) on the cuts & let the night take care of the rest.

Monday, April 24, 2006

Runnin' On Empty

Things I've learned in the past 6 days:

- Kitten-safing a home is a continual process. George likes to sleep on the laptop (thus the screen must stay closed when not in use). Henry found that the tree in my living room was a great place to leave me a little turd present (thus "Tree" is now residing on the balcony). Funny story on that last one. I'd just gotten home from my stepdad's retirement party & laid down to watch some Arrested Development. I noticed that Henry was in the tree base for about 3 minutes & then smelled why. Oh man! Before I could take Tree outside I heard a big BOOM & all of the lights in my apartment went out. Thus, my Friday night was as such...dragging an 8 foot palm tree on to the balcony in the dark (other than a couple of candles) in my jammies breathing through my mouth because it stank so bad trying to make sure that the kittens didn't escape into the darkness of night while the door was open.

- The kittens' favorite toys are my feet...at 5 o'clock in the morning.

- Henry & George (they got named on Thursday night after a bottle of wine) are gassy little mo fos (see! they were TOTALLY meant to be my cats!).

- 9 out of 10 people do NOT like the names Henry & George for the kittens.

- Men enjoy hearing about ballet when I stand in 4th position & drunkenly explain that you're not supposed to use your joints for turnout but instead your hip muscles (visual: showing them with my hands where these muscles are & demonstrating how to turn them out...idiot).

- Sparks creates the worst hangover known to man yet I will drink it again.

- You should NEVER trust the tequila that comes out of a glass vessel shaped like a gun.

- Just because your friends don't call regularly doesn't mean that they don't love you & miss you with all of their heart.

- When you make a set budget, you immediately begin spending more than you had been 3 days prior.

- Even with a severe lack of sleep, (unintentional) scratches on my wrist & feet, poop in a tree & stinky farts, the sound of Henry & George's purrs makes it all okay & reminds me that even though I've known them for less than a week, I will love them very very much for the rest of their lives.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Hey Smilin' Strange, You Lookin' Happily Deranged

Yesterday.

I decided right before leaving work & heading to ballet.

Earlier in the day I'd attempted to contact Jen yet she'd been unavailable. So I put the cutoff at 4:45. If she called before then, all systems go. But if not, it just wasn't meant to be. At 4:15 Jen called & we chatted for about a half an hour as I attempted to pull a leotard & tights on while still wearing work clothes in my office, praying that no one walked in. Literally running out the door, I yelled to Nick that I'd pick him up at 7.

All throughout class excited energy ran through my body. Barre, fantastic. Quick run-through of the recital dance, completely on. Once we entered the floor I not only nailed the pique/lame duck turn combo that'd been irritating me, my body produced fuerte turns that landed & stuck in a solid arabesque. Shitcha.

Just like clockwork (at 7), Nick & I were on the road for the longest Taco Bell Run in history. Side note: Nick is awesome for many, many reasons. One of which is that he's willing to run a long distance errand with a promise of The Bell in the future.

Nick: "Where are we going?"

Tron: "Rockford."

Nick: "Where the hell is that?"

Tron: "Not quite sure. I know that there's a water park there. And I used ride the Van Galdar bus though it on my way to Madison."

Nick: "We're still going to hit The Bell, right?"

Tron: "Of course."

So we drove & drove & drove, chatting about everything under the sun (& by that time the moon) until we were officially in BFE, which meant that we were close. After about $5 in tolls & a third of a tank of gas we got there. And we met them.

The lady who was fostering them had about a half dozen others that I would have gladly taken home had I the time & tolerance (for the smell). The first one I held, gray with black stripes, purred almost immediately in my arms. The orange one kept climbing up the built-in 8x6 cage to get out & jump on to me. Deal=sealed.

An hour later we were on our way back to Chicago, headed to The Bell.

And so I present to you...the still-unnamed kittens.

They're purring on my lap as I write & my apartment feels like home again.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Hear Ye! Hear Ye!

It's official. One Miss Emertron (ha ha! that's me! did you get that? i referred to myself in the third person!) will soon (see: as soon as tonight or as not soon as a couple weeks) open her home up to 2 adorable little kittens. Yes, you heard right.

KITTENS!!!!!!!!!!!!

What this means...

First, that friends who are allergic to kittens will once again not have the luxury of hanging out at Chez Tron.

Second, the kittens will need names. Will you help me? If chosen, the winner may get a special prize. And when I say special prize, I mean, an appropriate prize for the chosen namer. I can't very well send ice cream to Ajax or Conti. Details: 2 boys or one boy & one girl. Short hair. Adorable.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Bustin' it out

Here I am Tonight and Who Knows How I Got Here and I'm Too Tired to Fight and You Win Every Time

BBQ #2=fun (chem talk). BBQ #1=more fun (physics talk).

This is Physics John (to the right). I call him Physics John because he studies Physics. So anyway, he's superfun because unlike most physicists that I've met, he's not arrogant. Refreshing.

Tonight (bbq #2) we talked about D2O (whether it would kill you, which, of course, it would, but at what point) and supersoakers. Chemistry's fun to talk about but I've found more of a pull towards physics. There's something about working with has already been found out & what lies ahead that fascinates me. Granted, some of it is intangible for my little brain but sometimes a subtopic comes up & I not only understand but can contribute to conversation (see: not just sit, wide-eyed, soaking up information) with the knowledge that I have & logic-driven theories.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Hump Day!!!!

Man, what a TERRIBLE nickname for a day. Not only is it incredibly inappropriate, it's just stupid.

Just because there's not humping in your immediate future doesn't mean you have to be an asshole about it.

Hey, how do you know that there's no humping in my immediate future?

Because you have a date with a boy who doesn't like girls tonight.

Oh shit. I guess you're right. At least I can rely on a fun, completely nonthreatening time. Wait, I was going to tell a story.

And I tried to get your off track. 1, me. 0, you. Loser.

Whatever. So anywhoodle, Wednesdays suck because there are alway people running around saying "Happy Hump Day" or whatever. Well, the day sucks but the nights are awesome because of America's Next Top Model. (boy I hope that Jade kicks off soon or I'm totally sending that bitch hate mail) But back to the days sucking. Sucking until today that is. You know what today is?!?!?!

THE START OF $1 MILKSHAKE DAYS!!!!!!!!!

Yep, the beauty of working on Wednesdays has once again been restored because Spring has sprung and along with crocuses(i) out in full bloom, it's the only time of the year that the city doesn't smell gross & Daylight Savings Time becoming my very best friend, Campus Milkshake Day has rolled around and upped the quality of life for those of us on the southside. Mmmmmmmm....

And then tonight I have a gay date. (no, really, my date is gay) The 2nd bbq of the season (1st one was Monday night, complete with 40s & brats) is tonight. I'm making my super-special awesome hamburgers in the hopes of a big strong (staight) man flirting with me in my little khaki skirt, shocked at how he's never had a better burger. Okay, okay, so maybe it'll be more like eating burgers, drinking beer & talking science & music but still, I WILL be wearing a skirt. Yay! Too bad it'll be wasted on pastey scientists & Mr. My Head's Too Big For My Body So I Look Like A Goddamn Lollipop Man (who'll prolly be there...maybe we should rekindle the flame a year after we went out...ha ha ha...that's just gross). Sigh.

Monday, April 10, 2006

Seriously, what is going on here?

So yeah, the last few weeks have been downright confusing in the Land of Tron.

First of all, I've been having all of these crazy crazy dreams. And not like ha ha that was a little weird weird. More like did someone put a hallucinogen into my tea weird. This, dear blogosphere, does NOT induce good slumber. The only kinda okay thing is that they're not scary like the ones that I used to get. Just really really really weird. Like last night's...I was up in Toronto with my dad & for some reason completely neglected to call the BNN before arriving to set up bike times but then remembered it like 2 days into my trip but then when I tried calling, NK had died the night before. It was terrible. I was so sad in the dream. In another one a few days ago someone had broken into P's house (for some reason I was over there with Ian & Steph) and held the house hostage but not violently. He only wanted to hold a meeting on the front lawn to talk to the neighborhood about the Third Reich (and not to talk about its evil evil evilness). Superweird.

And thank goodness for Conner being with me this weekend. It was really windy on Friday & my apartment kept making noises. Usually it doesn't bother me but then again I haven't lived without an animal in 6+ years. Anyhow, remember Crazy Dan? That dude that 'accidentally' had my telephone in his jacket pocket? The one that I have very unaccidentally not called back oh, 17 times in a row? Yeah. He's been called twice on Thursday (at The 446 show) & once on Friday. And not at 5 or something. It was like midnight. So I was laying in bed, freaking out in my mind that he somehow found out where I live, climbed 3 stories onto my balcony & was in my apartment waiting to like tell me I'm a bitch or something. Which I totally am acting like one to him (duh) but really don't care because, as we may remember from about a year ago, I'm not dealing with any more psychos. And I really don't want to act like a big jerk so next time he calls I'm going to have Nick (or whatever male may be with me at the time) answer & say not to call me anymore or they'll break his face or something. Shiver. And I guess if I'm alone I'll have to do it myself.

So I've been making people stay with me (thank you wonderful volunteers!) so that I'm not alone every night. And tonight will be no exception. Especially considering the news that I just learned....THIS.

How could we let this happen? What is going on? And we wonder what causes wars. This, my friends, causes wars. Unfortunately, it looks like it's too late to stop it. We can, however, maybe stop this from ever happening in the future. I think I'm going to write to who ever it is that keeps producing Michael Bolton's music (?) and ask, no beg, them to never ever do this in the future & think of the children. Do we really want to raise our kids in a world with a Michael Bolton/Nicolette Sheridan duet album? I for one don't. And if he does continue to subject this world to such audio pollution I might just have to take matters into my own hands. Or walk around with marshmallow in my ears.

Saturday, April 08, 2006

Goals

Woah! What a productive day. Holy crap, I have even surprised myself with how much I've done today. Anyhow, this has spurred me to write up a 'to do' list. I used to make them all the time. Then laziness set in. Read: the last year. So now I've decided to start a new project, gardening. Yeah yeah, how much gardening can you do in an apartment. But with an apartment with a BALCONY I've come up with some creative ideas.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've decided to reenter retirementlike life, grab a silly straw hat & watering can, bask in growth & finish the Confederacy of Dunces surrounded by blooming lovelies.

But first, I've gotta get my ass in the shower to go out & dance dance dance the night away. Hello Smartbar!!!!!

Quickie: You've got a Broom Closet & a few minutes, right?

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Do you hear that? It's the sound of my heart breaking.

I feel like my worst nightmare is coming true & there's nothing that I can do about it. I mean, I knew that I always had a little bit of a problem but figured it could be classified as a fetish or something. Now I'm a little bit frightened of its potential.

In an attempt to ease myself into getting kittens, I've decided to do a little bit of research on 'The Web', looking up shelters & such. Did you know that shelters have digital cameras? And with these digital cameras are TAKING PICTURES OF THEIR KITTIES?!?!?! Yeah. Totally true. A lot of places have a little picture & then a catchy little blurp like 'tiger is a sweetheart who loves belly rubs and purring on your lap' and of course they don't go on to say it but my mind then continues with 'and obviously no one is loving his belly properly & he really should get belly rubs if he likes them & then no one will want him because they don't want him now & the shelter people will have no choice but to kill him and CAN YOU LIVE KNOWING THAT YOU CONTRIBUTED TO THE KILLING OF A HARMLESS KITTY?????!!!!!'. So there's Tiger.

And then I read the next one & it sounds just as adorable & I want that one too. Okay so Tiger & Fluffy. I was going to get 2 anyway. As you may have assumed, this cycle continues for the next 18 cats (maybe two of them I think could find a better match) and I have then rationalized adopting all of these kitties because odeargod they SHOULD NOT live in cages, thus blowing the entirety of my paycheck on felines. And then there's food. And litter. And love. Because I got them in the first place to give them love. So I'd obviously have to quit working to take care of all of the love that I need to give out, right? And then I'd like never leave my apartment. And because there are about 73 cats living there the whole place reeks of cat, and I do as well. So I finally get a night off from the cats and go out but no one will stand by me because I smell like cat & my friends have all abandoned me because I keep blowing them off because I 'need to spend time with Buster, Muffin, Donald, Greta & Tim tonight' so I end up just going home anyways to sit with the cats & eat ice cream, wallowing in self-pity. Eventually I run out of money & my parents won't help me out because of my very obvious 'cat problem' that started out as a simple liking of kitties & before you know it, we're all living on the street and the animal control people are called & they take all of the kitties back to the shelter.

I'm a CLIT. (Cat Lady In Training)

Are there programs to help you with this sort of thing if you see that there is a potential problem? They have those kinds of programs for booze & heroine & porn & eating & stuff. What about kitty addicts? Where do we go?

I made some really good egg salad last night. Maybe when Conti visits Chicago I will make him some. And then maybe he'll want to marry me because it's so tastey. Hope you make a lot of money, Mike, because I'm gonna want a lot of kitties & they all need rhinestone studded collars from Neiman Marcus.

Monday, April 03, 2006

Comfort of Strangers

I'd like to say that this weekend turned out so incredibly busy that I don't know where it went. That would be a lie. It went to sleep. Like a lot of people, when I feel stressed I sleep. Sleep sleep sleep. When I was a little kid mom knew when my ears had infections because I'd sleep. All the time. And a couple times while I slept my eardrums ripped. It was pretty gross waking up to blood all over your pillow. And now I have some hearing loss so I have to look at you to understand you & a lot of times when I didn't hear you I really didn't. Sometimes I use this to my advantage & "can't understand" what someone is saying to me in a crowded bar & just want them to not talk to me anymore.

Wait, what?

But the weird part was that for the first time in 2 years (other than random couch surfing nights), I slept alone. I don't like sleeping alone. But I won't have to sleep alone on Friday night because I will have Connor with me. Yep. My long lost love is back. He never really went anywhere but now we get to spend all of Friday & Saturday together. Yay!

But that I slept all weekend, that's not all true. I did some stuff. On Saturday a very sweet friend, in an attempt to cheer me up took me to a nickel arcade. For real, this place's games run off of nickels. And Pac Man & Tetris are free. FREE!!! So we played skeeball for like an hour & got all of these tickets. That's the best part of skeeball. All of those fun prizes. Deciding is really tough, though. You know? Do I want the chinese fingercuffs or the jumbo glasses or 63 soccerball-shaped erasers or Scooby-doo tattoos? I began to get feverish, hoping I wouldn't make the wrong decision, as I really couldn't go back on it. What if I pick the wrong thing? Would I regret it for the rest of my life? And then I saw it. There was no more need to think about what I would get.

A WHOOPIE CUSHION

This decision was as easy as the one to get cheese on my scrambled eggs earlier that morning. I began concocting a plan. How would I use this hilarious novelty item? It's not like fake dog doodoo where you can just put it anywhere & it causes enormous amounts of laughter. The victim must be unsuspecting. Blind to the knowledge that when they sit down everyone will think that they ripped some serious ass. Since our office chairs are black & don't have cushions in which to hide the fart-producing piece of rubber I decided to put a little twist on it. About an hour & a half into work I blew it up & let her rip, following each "fake fart" with "ooooo, that was a good one" & "oh yeah, I really needed to get that one out" & "uh oh, I think I should visit the john, thank god I brought that extra pair of pants today"!!

I peered out my office door at Nick, who was looking in the general direction, questioningly. When I pulled out the WC he started laughing & looked a little relieved. I'm really excited to have people over & put the WC in my couch. I think it'll bring hours of entertainment. Ha!